Alpha's Dangerous Obsession

PROLOGUE

ORA

"You may run, Ora. You may hide. You may even push me away, but I want you to know that you're fucking mine. I do not know the secrets you keep, or the reason for the pain behind your eyes, or why you freak out whenever I come close, but I want you to know one thing,"

He stalks closer, slamming his palm on the wall at both sides of my head, caging me between his hard body and the wall so I have no means of escape.

"I will claim you. Human or not, witch or not. You will be my queen. And I will make sure everyone who hurt you bow at your feet. It's a promise."

I hold his hot, searing gaze with my terrified ones. His eyes glow with an uncanny, green haze. Wolf eyes. They're so utterly beautiful, I feel my heart clench.

He's pressing into me now, chest to chest, hips to hips. His entire body thrums with barely restrained energy, and the moon's glow give his inky black hair an almost bluish tint.

In this moment, I feel all the pent up energy drain from my body. I am so tired of running, of fighting this war all on my own.

Right now, I wonder how it would feel to surrender to the delicious desire that burns in the eyes of this beautiful man.

I wonder how it would feel to wrap my tired body around his hard one and let him hold me, pleasure me till I forget all my worries.

My stupid heart yearns to give him my raw, unbridled trust.

Then I remember who I am, and most importantly, who he is.

He's the war I am fucking running from. He's the reason for this suffocating darkness that threatens to swallow me whole. And most importantly, he is the enemy.

And who am I? I am the one thing that he and his people – the Blood Moon Pack, despise the most. I am the belittled one. The scorned race. The abomination.

I am a human...or so they think. My life and the life of all my kind is at great risk.

For most of our lives, we have been hunted and murdered by the Witch Hunters of Blood Moon District, an organization established to eliminate all remaining traces of my kind, and currently headed by the King Alpha and arrogant arsehole standing before me.

"We" are the Sacred witches of the solstice. Years ago, I was forced to hide my powers and go into hiding for my safety and the safety of my loved ones.

Images of my parents' bloody, mangled bodies flit through my mind and I clench my fingers in rage. The hatred I have tried so hard to subdue returns with a vengeance.

My hatred burns for this arrogant man and all he stands for. It burns for every single member of the Blood Moon Pack, for all the sufferings and pain they've caused me. Rage pumps through my blood and I shove against his hard chest. He doesn't move an inch. It's like trying to shove the Kilimanjaro. Damn him and his supernatural werewolf strength.

"Get the hell away from me, and stay away!"

My fingers tingle and burn with fiery heat. I feel a jolt electricity zip up my arms. This can only mean one thing. My powers are close to the surface. When ever I'm around this man, my powers tend to spiral out of control.

I take a deep breath, trying to regain my composure. I know from experience that if I do not control my temper, sparks shoot from my fingers and I end up looking like a fucking freak show. Worse still, the leader of the Witch Hunters standing right before me might end up ordering my execution. Witches are no longer allowed to display their powers in public. I might end up slaughtered or burned to death beneath the Sacred oak tree like a fucking animal.

With one lightening move, he extricates one hand from the wall and wraps it around my waist, pulling me forward. A startled gasp slips from my lips and I stumble into his chest. He wraps his arm tighter around me, imprisoning me against him. Trapped. I'm trapped.

Suddenly, I am transported back to those horrible times. Times of pain, suffering and despair. A time when thoughts of slitting my own throat never failed to cross my tired, burdened mind. Memories of their burning red eyes and yellowed fangs ravage me until I cannot take it anymore. I begin to shake my head frantically. I cannot breathe.

"No...no! Please, let me go. Let me go!"

I scratch and claw, struggling against the hard body of my captor. My befuddled brain struggles to fight through the fog that threatens to suffocate me.

Then pain shoots through my arse and I immediately snap out of my manic episode.

Did he just...spank me?

I wait for the rage to consume me. Instead, I stand there, frozen and stunned as heat floods my core and my legs involuntarily clench in pleasure. Shocked, my eyes fly to his darkening ones. He's angry now. His eyes glow a deathly, almost black shade of green.

"What the fuck happened to you? This happens almost everytime I try to touch you. Who hurt you?!" He practically growls.

I lower my head, ashamed of my weakness. Seven fucking years and I have still not been able to get over those harrowing days. What kind of witch am I?

Apparently changing tactics, he lowers his head to mine. I almost jump when his hot lips graze my cheeks. He runs his heated mouth across my face and down the fragile stalk of my neck and I bite my lips to keep a moan of pleasure from slipping out. Damn him and his talented mouth.

He presses me harder against the dry wall, moving my legs to either side of his waist. They wrap tightly against him and I hang on for dear life.

My legs tremble with pleasure and I'm suddenly glad that he holds me up. At this point, I'm not sure my puddled feet are capable of keeping me up.

My eyes fly open when he presses the length of a very thick erection against my core. I grab onto his shirt as he thrusts his Jean covered manhood against me through the barrier of my very wet thong.

"Feel that?" He growls. "Feel that, baby?"

He grinds into me and my head falls back against the wall. My skin becomes heated with pleasure and my thighs are slick and slippery from my juices.

"Remember this night and never, ever doubt my feelings for you. You're mine. I do not give a fuck if you're human, or if you fucking shoot sparks from those beautiful eyes. You are my human. My witch. You're fucking mine!"

The rage in his voice gives me the strength I need to ungum my eyelids and my eyes clash with his. They're bright now and filled with raw, animalistic lust. My entire body sings with pleasure.

If I didn't have my powers cloaked, I would be glowing a bright shade gold by now.

He pauses at a sensitive spot on my throat and sucks...hard. His fangs brush lightly against me, sending a jolt of heat up my core. This man will be the end of me.

My name is Ora Devereaux. I am a pure blood, mystic, sacred witch.

His name is Cole Anderson St.Pierre, New York's greatest super star wrestler, playboy and King Alpha of the Blood Moon Pack.

A prophecy keeps us apart and threatens to kill our bond, but looking into his eyes right now, I am certain that this man will be my destruction.